APH And Thus We Say Goodbye
by TakenIntoContext
Summary: NEDDEN NightTerrors story. (I'm seriously lazy with summaries guys... i think they ruin a story


Title: [APH] And Thus It's Our Goodbye (not so much a) Drabble)

By: Stitches (Denny) from TakenIntoContext DA and FF/Land-af-ol-og-cykler

For: TulipsandTobacco .com

Pairing: NedDen

Rating: pg13? *Idfk*

Summary: pretty much look above to that Rating a.k.a I did something please read it? They get kinda tortured and junk xD

RECKLESS BLOOD WAR GOODBYE (in one!)

[I tried and I'm sorry[[I actually had to redo this cause it sucked xD]]

[[so yes… I love writing about Night Terrors]]

Blood coursing through his veins fast and ferociously as his mind raced and twisted into a hard hurt mess as he struggled. Sleep had always been the Dane's worst enemy, as cliché as that sounded to him. But from those terrors that actually struck him within his mind, it had stuck in his mind, to never, unless he has to, sleep alone. And that night, he brought home someone, telling the situation for the first time as he should have many, only getting a small curved smile and understanding comment.

A couple beers, a few comments and stories later and they were in bed, heated with burning sensations to the outmost boiling point until their release, fingers curling into the fabric of sheets and pressed into the side of hips, hearts racing and breath as hot as steam from a sauna. Soon enough, they were curled together, drifting off before a sweet sense of touched lips and jokes that they would only understand to their being. One last kiss and the pulling into another's chest to drift off into the abyss of the mind, to the creative safe haven of the being.

Even though, to only some, the dreamland of that abyss, is just an abyss. Frightful and terrifying to the core of his brain that sends him into spirals of sleepless nights and frightful out-bringings of those shadowy gripping beasts that drag out from the bottom of the shadows, to claw and mutilate any form of the being. And it was to these nights, which were the most terrifying either with, or without another person in his bed. It would always be him in his dream, the Dutchman that he held so dear to his heart. One or the other in a scattered mix of things that would course his inner being into a twister of pain. Watching them, tortures and crying, in a full field of maggots that seemed to just pour out of his mouth in a way of sorts to crude for the eyes to see.

Hands curled into fists against the Dutchman's chest as he shook in his fear in his arms. Disturbing images of blood dripping walls and black decaying from children's skin turning into ash and muck on the ground. The Dutchman woke to the Dane shivering, face in the state of fear and knuckles were being pressed into his chest.

"Mathias?" The Dutchman asked, shaking his friend lightly, "Mathias, wake up, you're having a nightmare."

Nothing but whimpers came from the Dane. The Dutchman tried again, giving up the shaking soon after having an idea to awake the Dane. He left the room, and went down the hall to the kitchen, and that's when he heard the first scream.

xXx

"Lars… I know it's kind of odd, that I keep inviting you over…" The Dane said as they entered the home, "It's…. well… I have a problem with sleeping."

"You mean like… what?" The Dutchman asked, "Get a teddy bear if you have to cuddle…"

"… Nej. I mean…" It was hard enough for him to explain as it is, "I get night terrors, really bad ones… some times I can't wake up or, or… I sleep walk and I find myself in strange places… and all I can remember is wha—"

"I get it… you feel more protected when another person is around?" The Dutchman smirked, "Cute… that you need my protection."

"Shut up I'm serious… I-"

"Mat…" The Dutchman smiled, wiping the other's hair out of his face, "don't worry I'm here, it's there any thing else I need to know?"

"Ja…"

"Don't lose contact."

xXx

Screaming kept coming from the bedroom, as the Dutchman sprinted down the hall to the door, looking in to see the Dane squirming, hitting, and punching against the air. His face stuck in terror as he tried to hit an invisible force that was blind to the eyes of the awake.

"MAT!" The Dutchman called running to him trying to get close, trying to avoid the kicks and punches, "MATHIAS WAKE UP!"

xXx

"It's just a dream… just a dream… justadreamjustadreamjustadre am….. it can' hurt me, nej, nej, it can'…"

rocking… rocking… rocking back and forth. Rocking… rocking… rocking back and forth. The settled tone, the uneasy steering of the constant wind that just screams decay. Fresh mounted blood ripped from the white skin of his dearest friends and brothers he held dear of the outmost safe value money could never hold. A crow croaking into the wind sweeps down to try to grab at his face, forcing him to get up and run. To hide once more and a cavern so far the running distance had set to eternity. It would end, this ambiguous rotting nightmare would sees with the one. The last. Where was he… where was Netherlands. The one that held the living spark in his organic system… for without it, he'd decompose into a rotting pile of sludge and blood to the grounds earth floor. He heard his name, head wiping back and forth to find the echoing noise. It became louder and louder, to an ear shattering siren as he covered his ears and fell to the ground screaming in pain at it.

Here is the place where dreams are reality…..

…. Here is the place where all the good dies….

…The place that decay is the beauty…

…and the place where the just are killed for the plenty…

Screams coming to the surface and bubbling out with the black oozing mess that had just sat in his lungs until now. Amongst it, a claw, large and jagged erupted through his throat and out of his mouth, forcing him to gag and choke bending over as he watched in horror of the claw gripping it's sharp taloned nails into the ground, pulling itself out of Denmark's body and wretching itself with the splatters of blood ripping itself from the inner linings of him.

….Closing his eyes it all disappeared…

…The night dream's sound and smooth…

…to look up and see the Netherlands…

..and thus he wants to die…

"Lars… LARS GET OUT OF HERE." No sound, all silence, Netherlands back was to him. Sound gone, no sways of the wind, or buzz from and insect.

Nothing.

NOTHING.

The thing, that something of nothing, that could make a man mad. Or sad, curled up in his own, shaking and begging for that something that brings the sound back, that moment of echos that the ears would long for. A song for at least a small moment. But dead silence of the retched kinds became apartment as Netherlands stood as stone, back to his and there with the stance of a killed of tune of a song bird mocking.

Crack,

Crack,

Crack,

Goes the spinal cord of the Netherlands as his feet planted into the ground, vines holding his hips down to his feet, spin bending back wards for the blood soaked stitched grin to show itself to Denmark. Screams erupt, erupt from his lungs, looking for protection as Netherlands' head spun upright, arms contorting as he lurched forward, into a demonic animalistic run. Denmark, finding an axe, took the first swing as the thing pounced.

xXx

"Mathias… please wake up, please." The Dutchman said, leaning over his friend, who's body was so still. He shook the Dane again, once, twice, and the third time a gasp erupted from the Dane as eyes sprung open to look at the Dutchman. Eyes, that became so teary and more like a river's water as they stared into the olive field eyes of the Dutchman. A pull, a tug, and repeated kisses towards his lips, not of need and want, but of relief and love, shaking under him as he grips so tightly at his back.

There was the place that dreams became reality…

There was the place were the nightmares reigned free….

The place all hope is lost…

The place a Dutch Man died…

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

In the dream lands cell,

The heart beats one,

And remains in Hell.

End.


End file.
